


The Old Kigdom

by pagen_godess



Category: Old Kingdom - Garth Nix, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Gore, Crossover, F/M, Kinda, M/M, Magic, Magic AU, Necromancy, Slow Build, Zombies, of a sort, some character death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 17:04:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5548397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pagen_godess/pseuds/pagen_godess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Old Kingdom was a land where magic ran free. Only bound by those who were strong enough to use it. Free mages and Charter mages bent the magic to their will. The dead rose under the power of a necromancer's bells and it was the job of the house Abhorsen to put them back down.</p><p>That was a long time ago however. Now none travel to the Old Kingdom. The truth of the land has become nothing more than stories for children. Or so Steve thought.</p><p>After his plane crashes and Steve wakes up alone he's helped by a man wielding a sword on his back and bells (of all things) across his chest.</p><p>There's much more going on than looking for Steve's missing friends. They just don't know it yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Old Kigdom

There were things swarming around Steve. Things that smelled of death and rot with no desire other than tearing the beating heart out of his chest. The worst part was that Steve recognized many of these things. Many of the now dead things trying to tear Steve apart had been people he called friend not too long ago. Or at least Steve thought it hadn’t been long ago.

He’d woken to a ringing in his ears and a sharp stinging pain in his head. The burnt out remains of the plane he and his companions had been traveling in told him that something had gone wrong on their trip. What exactly the wrong thing that had happened was however he couldn’t remember. That Steve knew was the fault of the pain in his head.

He'd taken a nasty knock to the head but other than pain and apparent unconsciousness he seemed to fine fine. Well, he couldn’t say he was perfectly fine because he was being attacked by dead things and his gun wasn’t anywhere in sight. Whomever had drug him out of the plane, assuming he hadn’t stumbled out himself, had either taken it or left it behind in the burning plane.

They’d left Steve with nothing more than what he had in his pockets and the military issue knife tucked in his boot. And that Steve knew would do him no good against the dead things trying to take his life. All Steve could do now was try and get away with his life. 

That didn’t seem very likely considering the circumstances. That wasn’t going to stop him from trying to get away however. Steve had always done oddly when it came to beating the odds and hopefully now would no exception.

There was no grace to Steve’s dash for freedom. He slammed into bodies left and right as he made for the tree line. Some of the more decrepit corpses fell apart when he slammed into them. The newer fresher bodies however made grabs at his clothing as if to try and slow him down. One corpse in particular seemed determined to keep hold of his jacket. That was fine. It was warm out and Steve decided in that moment that the corpse could keep his jacket so long as it meant he got away.

He’d build a fire if it got cold at night. He’d snatched Bucky’s book of matches before they’d boarded the plane because his friend wouldn’t stop playing with the case. God, he hoped his friends had survived the crash. He hadn’t seen them amongst the corpses chasing him or at least he hoped he hadn’t.

Wet invaded the inside of Steve’s shoes as he ran through an ankle deep creek. He could have easily jumped the small body of water had he been paying enough attention to his surroundings while running. Had Steve been paying more attention he might not have slammed bodily into the oddly dressed man standing on the other side of the creek.

He didn’t have enough time to get a good look at the other man before strong fingers were grasping his arm and pushing him forward.

“Keep going.” The man ordered as he pulled a sword of all things out of the sheath strapped across his back.

Steve might have argued but the sword wielding man seemed to know what he was doing. Or at least Steve hoped that he knew what he was doing. The odd man must have because he was planning on using a sword to fight the mass of dead following behind Steve. Steve supposed that at least a sword couldn’t run out of ammo like a gun could.

Steve told himself that he wouldn’t go very far away just in case the man needed his help. Not that he would have much help to give if whatever the man was planning went wrong. The last glimpse Steve had of the man was of the stranger pulling a bell out of the holder strung across his chest. Steve didn’t know what good it would do but he hoped it helped somehow.

\------

“It’s safe to come down now.” A familiar voice called up to Steve. “I promise that it’s safe. All the Dead are gone.”

Steve glanced down from his perch and into the brown eyes of the sword wielding man. The stranger looked to be in good health. There were few scratches that Steve could see and his clothes were only lightly stained. His sword was tucked into it’s sheath at his back and every compartment of the holder strapped across his chest had something in it.

“I swear that I don’t bite. At least not since I was small and you really can’t live in that tree for the rest of your life.” There was an oddly pleasant teasing lift to the man’s voice as he spoke. He seemed trustworthy enough and if he had meant Steve any harm then he would have killed him when he’d had the chance earlier that day.

That was assuming that he wasn’t some sort of psychopath who took people home and tortured them or something. It was however a risk that Steve was going to have to take, at least until her got his bearings and a better idea of what exactly was happening and where exactly he was.

“My names Tony by the way.” Tony said as Steve jumped down from his branch. The brunette offered his hand for Steve to shake. Steve stared at it for a moment before wrapping it in one of his own and shaking.  
“I’m Steve. Steve Rogers.” Tony offered him a sly smile as they let go of each others hand.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Steve. I’m sorry it had to be under such horrible circumstances. Fighting off a pack of zombie’s isn’t exactly how I like to meet people.”

“No, I Imagine it isn’t.” Steve said with a frown. With everything that had happened he’d almost forgotten about the plane crash and his missing friends. “Can you tell me where I am?”

“The middle of nowhere.”

“Can you please be serious. I’ve had a very bad day and I’m not in the mood to be played with.”

Tony smirked before raising his arms in the air and turning a circle. “I’m not lying. We’re in the middle of nowhere. Whatever this forest was named was lost a long time ago. It’s not named on any map I own.”  
Steve frowned. From what he could see Tony wasn’t carrying anything with him other than the sword at his back and the bells strapped across his chest. There was no bag of any sort on his person and it didn’t look like his leather pants had any pockets.

In fact now that he was paying any sort of attention to the way Tony was dressed it was easy to tell just how strange Tony’s clothes actually were. Dark leather pants covered his legs the ends tucked into dark red boots that covered most of Tony’s lower leg. His dark shirt was long sleeved but looked to be made of a lighter material than something meant for the cold of the aproching winter.  
Tony’s style of dress made little sense to Steve. He looked like someone going to a ren fair. That however wasn’t something that Steve really needed to focus on because his jeans and t-shirt weren’t much better than what the other was wearing.

“I can take you to the nearest village if you want. They’ll offer food and a place to sleep though you may have to do a bit of hard labor in exchange.” Tony offered.

“I’d like to go back to the plane if you don’t mind. I need to look for my friends.”

“Are they alive too?” Tony asked his eyes wide. “And here I thought that you were the only survivor.”

“I don’t know if they survived but they weren’t part of the group that attacked earlier. At least not that I could tell.”

Tony chewed the inside of his lip for a moment before turning his gaze skyward. There was silence for a moment before he nodded to himself and turned his gaze back towards Steve.  
“I don’t know if you’ll be able to find anything but I’d want to do the same thing if they were my friends.” Tony jerked his head in what Steve had to assume was the crash site. “Let me grab my bag and we’ll go see what we can find.”

“Thank you so very much.” Those words were filled with every ounce of gratitude that Steve could manage. He didn’t know where he was but at least there was one person kind enough to help him when he needed it the most.

\------

The silence between the two of them made Tony nervous in a way that not even the Dead from earlier that day made him. The man searching the crash site with him was far to calm and level headed for someone who had fallen out of the sky sometime in the past day and a half.

Part of that calm was probably shock and the other part was probably from the bump to the head that Steve had taken while plunging from the sky. It’d hit the blonde man eventually and then the yelling would start. For now however Tony was content to help the man try and find his friends in whatever shape they were in.

Someone had to be alive still because he doubted that Steve had crawled from the burning plane by himself. There was a small possibility that it had been the mancer that had called the dead back but it wasn’t likely. At least not if it had been an experienced necromancer. He’d heard of newly belled mancer’s doing such things to test their control of the dead but it still didn’t seem extremely likely to him.

“Any sign of them?” Tony asked because he had very little idea of what he was actually looking for. Steve had only given him the barest descriptions of his friends.

“No.” Steve replied with a shake of his head. “Nothing and the bodies in the plane are so burnt that I couldn’t tell anyone apart no matter how much I tried.”

“Maybe they went to look for help and something happened. This forest can be hard to navigate if you don’t have a map.” It was a sad attempt at cheering the other man up but it was the best he could manage. His current job didn’t make interacting with the living any easier.

“Maybe.” Steve agreed his voice still just as downtrodden as it had been a few minutes before.

Tony glanced up at the sky again as he made his way over to Steve. The taller man looked pathetic. His blonde hair had blood in it and he was battered and bruised. His pants and shirt were torn from his encounter with the Dead and Tony was certain that the tattered remains of a jacket he’d seen when burning the dead earlier that day had once belonged to Steve. The poor guy looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Tony knew exactly how that felt.

“It’ll be getting dark soon and we won’t be able to look for much longer.” Tony paused as Steve turned his baby blues towards him. “I have some jerky and bread and an extra blanket. We’ll camp in the forest a way’s and make our way to the village tomorrow. Maybe someone there has seen your friends.”

It looked for a moment like Steve was going to protest (Tony would have had it been him) but in the end the blond nodded his head and sighed.

“Maybe.”

Tony found that he could do nothing more for the poor man that lead him into the shelter of tree’s ten times as old as either of them. He’d get Steve feed and watered, let the man clean the blood from his hair and sleep. Then come morning if Steve wanted it he’d explain where exactly they were and let him know of the dangers. He’d offer his help in what small ways he could and if luck stayed with them then the only bell that would sing that night would be Ranna’s sweet lullaby.

\-------

The handles of the bells shone silver in the light of their fire and Steve wanted more than anything to pull one out of its sheath and run his fingers over the smooth crystal surface of the bell’s cup. He’d only gotten a glimplse of beautiful blue earlier that day and now that he’d eaten and had nothing better to do he found his eyes drawn to them.  
Steve’s gaze darted around their small camp. He was still alone and it seemed that Tony wouldn’t be returning anytime soon. Steve didn’t know what the other man was doing out there amongst the aichant tree’s and if the tingle at the base of his skull told him anything he didn’t want to know.

There was something about Tony that made Steve’s nerves twitch in warning. Like there was some danger hanging around the other man like a thick fog. But at the same time the feeling made Steve feel safe as well. Tony could take care of them that feeling said and for now Steve was going to listen to it. There wasn’t much else he could do other than listen to it.  
Tony was his only chance he had if he wanted to find his friends. If his friends were even still alive. He’d get lost and get himself killed if he tried to go off by himself. If the dead rising was a common occurance they’d probably pick him off the next time he ran into them. That or he’d get lost and hurt himself. If that happened he’d probably starve or be eaten by a wild animal.  
No, for now he was going to stay with Tony. Survival training could only get him so far in this unknown place and Tony at least seemed to know where he was going and had some idea of what he was doing. So until he showed himself as untrustworthy Steve had no real choice but to trust him.

If it helped him find Bucky and Peggy he’d do whatever it took. 

So for now Steve was going to stay in their camp like Tony had asked and wait for the other man to return. Besides he had questions and while Tony had promised to answer them all in the morning Steve hoped that the brunet would be willing to answer a few that night. But for now he could wonder about why Tony had fought off a mob of zombies using a sword and a bell.  
Seriously, what good would a bell do against a dead person?

But Tony wasn’t back yet and Steve was curious.His ma would have swatted his behind for what he did next but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him and sometimes it felt good to indulge a bit. Besides it wasn’t like he was going through Tony’s bag. They were just a bunch of bells and what harm ever came from ringing a bell?

Reaching forward Steve unlatched the clasp holding the largest bell in place. Long strong fingers wrapped around the cool handle. A shiver raced along Steve’s spine. It felt like something had ran a finger down Steve’s back.

“I really wouldn’t do that if I were you?” Steve’s hand jerked back and his head whipped around to stare at the man that was standing just inside the light cast by the fire.  
“Astarael isn’t something even I would mess with. Not unless it was a last resort and maybe not even then.” Tony stepped further into the fires light. He was carrying a bundle of firewood in his arms. Apparently he’d been gather firewood while he was off doing whatever it was he was doing. 

“Astarael?” Steve asked. The name sounded like something he might have once heard of a long time ago. It sounded like a name from a children’s story.  
“The Weeper. Astarael kills both the ringer and all who hear it. Not something you’d want to do on accident.” Wood clattered to the ground as Tony sat. Steve watched as Tony closed the bell’s housing before he picked up the whole sheath and sat it behind him.

Steve wanted to laugh because what the hell was the other man talking about? Bells didn’t kill people just because they heard the chime. That was like something out of a fantasy novel.  
Or something out of a bedtime story. 

Something clicked in Steve’s head then. A small something from his childhood and his mother’s favorite story. A story Steve himself had demanded to hear not because he cared for it but because his mother loved to tell it so much.

“Where am I?” Steve asked, “And who are you?”

Tony was silent for a moment as if taking time to put his thoughts into order.

“My name is Tony Stark and you’re in the Old Kingdom.”

“Old Kingdom?” Steve snorted because that was all he could do. He had heard these stories before. His mother had told him every single one about a million times. “The old kingdom is a myth. A story people tell to frighten children and trouble makers. Just like the necromancers and the bells that control the de…”

Steve’s eye’s darted to the bells behind Tony’s back and to the Silver key stitched into the thick material of Tony’s shirt. Because the more he thought about it the more he remembered of the stories. The land of magic where the dead walked and the family who job it was to put them back in the grave. A family that bore the same mark that was stitched into Tony’s shirt. A silver key that had been hidden underneath the bells.

“Hello,” Tony said holding out his hand, “My name is Anthony Edward Stark and a long longtime ago my ancestors were called by the name Abhorsen.”

**Author's Note:**

> While I should really be working on the next chapter of My Imperfect Creation I couldn't help myself. I got the Old Kingdom books for Christmas and I had to write something. This may not be 100% accurate and I apologize for that. I haven't read the books in forever and have yet to start my reread. I'll be going back and edit any mistakes I make as I go so please bear with them. There are more characters to come in later chapters. They'll be added as I go. Along with any other thing I may need to tag.
> 
> I'm not sure how often this will be updated so please bear with me.


End file.
